


Under the Moon, Over the Fire

by sanva



Series: Life Mates [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Mama Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-22 03:59:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanva/pseuds/sanva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek never wanted to return to Beacon Hills. But when Laura died he had to find her. After keeping himself closed off for years, doing his best to avoid mating, he never expected tragedy to lead to the best day of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a slight reference to a tradition on the Eve of Kupala where according to wiki "On Kupala day, youth jump over the flames of bonfires in a ritual testing of one's bravery and faith. A couple in love's failure to complete the jump while holding their hands is a sign of their destined separation." I know nothing more than what I read in the wiki article on this tradition.
> 
> I have no idea where this came from, outside of a marathoning of Teen Wolf and reading a bunch of fic. I'm not a hundred percent happy with the voices of the characters in this and I don't have a beta. Yes, Derek will be a bit out of character, but things went a bit differently in New York for he and Laura . . . and because of that some things had to change in this fic. As will how I deal with other couples.
> 
> I'm going to try and explain mating in this fic as I go, so reading the other fics in this world shouldn't be necessary. The main part you should know is most people mate around college age, age differences in mating are rare but not unheard of. Mating can take place at the age of 15 or 16 but its rare. Some matings occur between people who've known each other for years upon hitting the mystical "right age".
> 
> This fic could end up being just a few parts or cover more of season one . . . depends on how things go. Right now I just plan to cover how things are dealt with in regards to Stiles and Derek. It was going to be a one shot, but then the in-law family wrote themselves in so there was more development. Now I have no idea. I plan to post once a week.

The end of the latest chapter of his life didn’t come with a crash; there was no burning buildings or bullets raining down at them. The end came during the night, while Derek was asleep. At least this time there was no beautiful girl smiling at him and using a mixture of wolfsbane and druidic magic to seduce him into believing her lies.

One night he went to sleep after spending five hours playing Halo with his brother-in-law while his sister, Laura, was on a business trip for the advertising company she worked for and the next morning he woke to silence. There were no comforting heart beats or the soft sound of Jonathon’s slight snoring on the other side of the small two bedroom apartment. The other wolf, the only beta his sister had ever bitten (and only because mate’s never failed to turn successfully), had died.

It took less than twenty seconds for Derek to reach the door to the master bedroom, hands clenching against the wood frame, claws digging in as his features shifted. Jonathon hadn’t slipped out in the night, he was still there, and lying in the cream covers head against the ridiculous floral print of the pillow cases Laura had received at the ceremony celebrating their union. She had told her mother-in-law she loved them, but Derek had heard the change in her heart rate.

Derek’s eyes drifted shut and he forced his hands away from the door frame, claws digging into his palms as he tried to force himself to calm down.

If Jonathon was dead Laura was dead. If the Alpha was dead then someone else had taken her place. Thing was their pack was small, too small really. The only ones left being him and their comatose uncle, Peter. Derek hadn’t felt anything change, in fact he _knew_ hadn’t gained a boost in power. He knew without a doubt his eyes would still shine blue if he looked in the mirror.

But he was the only viable member of the pack, it wouldn’t have gone to Peter, not considering the man hadn’t moved on his own or spoken since the fire. There was no way that the magic of the pack bond would have skipped over Derek, even if he wasn’t exactly fit to be the Alpha—even if he didn’t _want_ to be the Alpha.

That means that someone else was. Someone, and not a Hunter or a run of the mill human had killed his sister. Another werewolf had and Derek could not let that stand.

He opened his eyes, finding Jonathon’s still form; his skin didn’t look any paler than usual. If he hadn’t been a werewolf Derek could almost pretend . . .

Shaking his head, Derek turned and headed back to the front room. He had phone calls to make. The authorities needed to know, Jonathon’s family needed to know, and he needed to find his sister.

At least, whatever remained of her.

From there he would be one step closer to finding the one that killed her.

 

 

The most difficult part about finding Laura’s body had been finding out where she had gone. All she had told Jonathon and him—unless his brother-in-law had been told otherwise—was that the company she worked for was sending her to the California office to supervise a new account negotiation. The time frame she’d given Derek had been a week, two at the most.

Laura had been gone five days when she was killed. Upon contacting the company she worked for, Derek had found out that everything she’d told him had been a lie. Somehow Laura had managed to lie to him.

She’d taken two weeks of vacation and left. It had taken the assistance of a member of local pack they had an alliance with to its last location—Beacon Hills, California.

When Derek had received that bit of information his heart and mind had frozen. Their home town and the official Hale pack territory was where Laura had been last? They had no reason to return, unless something had happened to Peter. Considering he could still feel the frayed edges of that bond—a bond so week it was almost nonexistent—that couldn’t be the case.

He had spent almost an hour of pacing outside the morgue as Jonathon’s family arrived. Arcelia, Jonathon’s eldest sister stayed with him as the rest of their rather large family went in to say their goodbyes. She had her youngest, Maria in her arms, and her four year old son Ephraim attached himself to Derek’s shin as they stopped in front of him. 

“Derek,” Arcelia blinked tears out of her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” While they didn’t know everything, Jonathon’s family knew a lot more than most. They knew about the fire and how Laura and Derek had lost a large, extended family that had been almost inseparable. 

She reached out and settled her hand on his arm, just above the crook of his elbow. He barely kept himself from flinching. For all that Laura and he had been welcomed into Jonathon’s family, it hadn’t been the same. They weren’t werewolves. They weren’t pack . . . there hadn’t been enough time to get to that point.

Or maybe Derek had been too afraid to let himself get attached to them.

“Me too,” he looked down at little Maria, her hair just starting to get long enough for more than just a barrette to decorate it. Dark curls starting to form from wispy baby hair.

“Unca D’rek?” Ephraim drew his attention and Derek let a hand reset on the top of the kids head.

“Hey junior,” Derek greeted before looking back up at the boy’s mother.

“You’ll always be a part of this family,” Arcelia stated after a moment. She’d always been good at reading him, from the moment they met a year and some change ago. Less than a week after Laura and Jonathon had run into each other while trying to catch a cab.

He nodded and then looked up, his eyes catching on the window to the morgue. He couldn’t see much, but he could hear the tears, sobs, inside that cold room. “I need to go find her.”

“One of us could come with you,” she adjusted her daughter and reached down to snag Ephraim’s hand as the boy let go of Derek’s leg. “We’ll get grievance time off from work and mama won’t want to complete the burial until Laura’s home. It wouldn’t be right.”

“A friend helped me track her phone. I think she may have gone to visit our Uncle while she was on business.” Derek blinked the moisture out of his eyes and then turned back to face the woman at his side. “I’m going to fly there and speak with the local law enforcement tonight. The police have already called ahead.”

Arcelia studied him for a moment and then nodded. “Be careful and come back to us.”

Derek reached out and ran a hand over Maria’s hair before nodding. “Text me if anyone needs something from me . . . and here.” he pulled out Jonathon’s set of keys to the apartment and held them out to her. 

She raised an eyebrow at him and he stuck them into the side pocket of her purse. “You better text me daily. Or I’ll call one of my cousins to find you. We do have relatives in California, you know.”

Derek nodded and left after one last pat on the head to Ephraim. He hoped that he’d be able to keep that promise. But he wasn’t so sure he’d ever want to come back to New York. The apartment he’d shared with his sister and her husband wasn’t someplace he ever wanted to set foot in again after he retrieved his things.

The scent of death had already managed to permeate the entire apartment

 

 

To say that Stiles was having an awesome first day of school would be beyond overstated. His day had started out okay but then mediocre had become the main theme of the day, especially after Scott mated with the new girl in the middle of third period. They were of the age now that mating generally started happening— _finally_ —and some small part of Stiles had been hoping that he’d run into Lydia Martin on the first day of school and that’d be it.

He’d only been pining over her luscious red locks and beyond brilliant mind since third grade. It was ridiculous, Stiles knew, but some part of him had still hoped. It obviously hadn’t been meant to be.

At least not yet.

For all that Lydia and that jerkoff Jackson Whittemore were all over each other, they weren’t mates. For some reason that fact hadn’t alienated them to the majority of the population of Beacon Hills, which was weird considering how relationships pre-mating were frowned upon. Of course some of that had changed over the past few years as reforms swept through the government and Church. Mostly that had been focused on gender of mates, but some of the relaxation on interpretations of the Word had bled over in other areas as well.

Stiles was pretty sure something was up with Scott, worse than having to go through the mating ceremonies and underage negotiations families went through at times like these. There were also that animal bite and the other symptoms Scott had been complaining about that morning.

He hadn’t had time to talk with his friend about it, not with the seclusion and other typical ceremonies involved with mating.

Outside of Scott, stiles didn’t have many friends . . . or any really. Acquaintances didn’t really count. Although, he did have a lot of those. Spending most of your first day of school alone? Awkward.

Lacrosse hadn’t been much better. At least the coach had let him on the field, even if it was only to boost the morale of the rest of the players. Though he hadn’t been utterly horrible, in fact he’d blocked a few of the shots and only ended up with three bruises.

 

 

 **Scott**  
Dropped my inhaler in the preserve last night. Could you find it?

 **Stiles**  
You want me to go find your inhaler in the middle of woods?

 **Scott**  
Who was it that insisted we go looking for half a body in the middle of the night?

 **Stiles**  
Fine. Do you have any idea where it might be?

 **Scott**  
Not far from where your Dad found us. 

**Stiles**  
Like a needle in a freaking haystack. You owe me.

 **Scott**  
I think you need to recount. It’s totally you that owes me.

 **Stiles**  
Not if you count second grade.

 **Scott**  
I hate you. G2G. Get to see Allison again!

 

He didn’t bother responding to the last text message. Scott probably wouldn’t be anywhere near his cell phone for quite some time anyway. At least that meant he’d probably see his best friend again in a few days. Maybe. Mating fever times, especially when prolonged during underage negotiations tended to vary from a couple days to a week and sometimes longer.

Stiles glanced up as one of his teammates closed the locker next to him. “Hey.”

Danny nodded back at him, returning Stiles’ smile with a small one of his own before turning to continue a conversation with Jackson.

Stuffing the rest of his Lacrosse outfit into his locker, he shucked his phone into his bag and then finished getting dressed. His Dad had technically imposed a curfew on him after last night’s debacle, but he had plenty of time to head out to the woods. He did technically owe Scott as he was the reason his friend had been bit, but Stiles doubted he’d find the inhaler. It wouldn’t hurt to look, though, especially if Scott actually had found the other half of the body.

One of these days his Dad was going to kill him for looking for trouble. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be today.

 

 

The overnight flight to Beacon Hills had been horrible. There many reasons why Derek preferred to drive whenever possible; most of them had to do with being stuck in a rather small space with dozens of people. Sleeping was impossible, even without the knowledge that his entire reason for being on this flight was to return to a town he’d avoided for years where, theoretically, he’d arrive to find his sisters dead body.

And find his sisters body he had, only hours after arriving in Beacon Hills. 

Derek had spent all of half an hour at the station, meeting up with a deputy to touch bases before said deputy had sent him to find some place to crash for the night. The woman had given him a few options for lodging, but instead he’d gone straight to the location where most of his dreams and nightmares always played out. 

He’d gone home.

The house was a wreck, a shell of its former self. The area still smelt burnt, but there was a tinge of rot and mold and the general smell of the forest. The smell of decaying, burning bodies was gone (not that he spent much time searching the inside of the house and he definitely didn’t go into the basement).

It was early in the day, and the search parties were far away and likely taking a break, so Derek set out to find his sister. He’d already had word that half of a body had been found when he visited the station—no one had told him, but he’d heard the whispers from a few volunteers.

There was a slight wind and that probably helped him find the body faster. The upper half of the body that was most certainly his big sister, there would be no way for him to mistake her.

His hands itched to cover her and his wolf raged to take over. Derek let it for a moment, howling long and deep. Grieving for yet another member of his pack, letting himself feel the pain in a sharp wave of emotion. He hadn’t let it hit him fully before, not even with Jonathon’s loss. But now, faced with Laura’s body . . . he had to.

Derek wasn’t sure how long he sat there, kneeling in the leaves next to his body before he came back to himself. He let his senses reach out and took in the scene. There were other scents, a male—human—and another wolf. As he stood he took in the area, eyes traveling over the trees and forest, looking for anything. After a while he found an inhaler, and a bit after that he found blood mixed in the leaves and with the scent of an Alpha.

That meant the Alpha may have made a beta. Derek wouldn’t only have to find the Alpha but a newly bitten wolf as well.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he placed the inhaler inside exchanging it for his phone. Arcelia had texted him at some point, letting him know they were starting to plan out funeral arrangements and requesting he text her soon. 

Ignoring the text he sorted through his recent contacts and called the sheriff’s department. As much as he wanted to bury her on Hale land, to force her form to that of the wolf as was customary for an Alpha, in this case it wouldn’t be possible.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much shorter than I usually like to even consider posting chapter wise. However, the point at which I end this section worked and I didn't want to wait any longer to post. I had planned to include Stiles' POV of the last part tonight but I'm tired and I have work in the morning. I was sick most of last week (Sunday-Thursday), and writing didn't happen. I also worked two tens (Fri/Sat) so today was the first real time I had to write anything. I also had to finish editing and post the part two of the SGA fic in this verse. When I get done posting that there may be more of this either longer or more often.
> 
> I noticed a few things I'll go back and edit grammar/punctuation wise later. There's a brief explanation of why Mama Stilinski is alive here. There will be more on her character later (and I plan to explain the McCall single parent situation as well).

Stiles groaned as his cell phone rang. The sound was a sharp contrast to the relative calm of the forest around him. He slipped it out of his pocket and grimaced at the name.

Answering it, he ran a hand over his head and glanced around the area, “Hey Mom.”

“Where are you?” his mother’s tired voice filtered to his ears. 

She was always tired it seemed. Not that he could fault her—she’d survived a brain tumor that had left her plagued with chronic migraines. Stiles wasn’t going to complain about having to be extra quiet or about all the times she’d missed watching various sports events or school programs. His parents were alive. They almost hadn’t lived to see him grow up.

“Where am I?” Stiles bit his lip as his thoughts flitted through his head, grasping for a good response. “I am in my jeep about to head home because I’m grounded.”

“Good answer,” he heard her sigh, “but it’d be better if it was the _truth_.”

He swore his mother was a real life lie detector sometimes.

“Truth? I have absolutely no reason to lie. Why would I risk more time without the ability to simply get in my jeep and go at all hours?” Stiles decided it would be better to continue his trek, rather than waste time standing around. His free arm moved freely in sweeping motions as he continued, “Not that I don’t have a curfew normally. Midnight on school nights is a very reasonable curfew that I have absolutely no reason to break. Especially not when I don’t really go anywhere that isn’t Sco—”

“Stiles,” she cut him off, “Just be home within an hour and stop by the store for some bread. Your father won’t be home till late.”

“Wait, did they find the other half of the body?”

“Honey, you know I won’t answer that question even if I knew the answer. And you shouldn’t even know about the first half of the body as it is.”

“It was in the news this morning!” he protested, stumbling over a root and barely managing to catch himself.

“One hour, Stiles. And if you’re not here you better have a good excuse or I’ll let your father put a GPS in the jeep and on your phone.”

The call cut off and Stiles winced. The GPS was a real threat, his father had installed it at one point, but that had only lasted until Stiles figured out how to hack the system. His googlefu was _amazing_.

He didn’t have long, according to his mental calculations, if he had to stop by the store on the way home, but he should have enough time to at least do a cursory look over the area near where he saw Scott last the night before. If he had any luck then he might find the inhaler easily. Hopefully the body hadn’t been found yet—if what Scott said was true—and Stiles could also be the one to call in an anonymous tip for its location.

After he was already headed home, of course.

 

 

Derek watched from a ways off as the police surveyed the area, cordoning it off with bright yellow tape. He’d already given an initial statement to Sheriff Stilinksi and one of his deputy’s. Watching as humans examined and recorded every bit of the scene, taking pictures of his sisters naked upper half had him grinding his teeth and clenching his fists. He was fighting all of his instincts to keep from shifting.

“Derek?” The sheriff had split off from one of the investigators and was approaching him again.

Derek shoved his hands into his jackets pockets and met the older man’s eyes.

Sheriff Stilinski sighed as he stopped in front of him, eyes taking in Derek’s appearance again. “I know it’s been a tough couple of days for you. Finding both,” he stopped and grimaced before gathering his words again, “things will take a while here and honestly, I don’t think you need to see this part of the investigation.” Reaching out he settled a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “You need to take care of yourself. We’ll get things sorted here and ready for the next step.”

Keeping himself from reacting to the Sheriff’s attempt at comfort, Derek slid his eyes away and nodded. It would probably be better if he wasn’t here for the rest of the investigation. He was an unmated beta without an alpha and that was beginning to take a toll on his control considering the situation.

“Yeah. I—I should probably get some sleep.”

“If you want one of my deputies could go with—”  
“Thanks, but no.” Derek shook his head and steeled himself. He raised his eyes to meet the Sheriff’s again. “I should be fine. I’m just going to go get my car and head back to town. I’ll be fine.”

The Sheriff surveyed him for a moment and then nodded. “Be careful on the way back.”

“It may have been a few years, but I know these woods. It won’t be dark for a while yet. I’ll be fine.”

 

 

In retrospect it would have made more sense for Derek to head back, but his instincts were close to surface and he needed some time to himself. Going straight back to the house and his car would have meant heading back in town to civilization and people. He needed time. 

There was also the fact that going straight back would have meant going around the crime scene rather than just turning and walking away. There were less eyes and whispers if he just left and doubled back after a while.

Considering earlier events what happened next could have been considered awkward. Actually, looking back on everything in the future it would be. There really wasn’t any avoiding it though. Derek had been focused internally, for the most part, trying to calm his wolf down. Even as focused as he was he still heard the human trudging through the woods towards him, along with a few mumbled curses and random comments.

On a normal day Derek would have just turned and avoided the male figure, choosing to forego human contact. There was a reason why most of his time in New York had been spent holed away in the apartment, taking online classes and going through books and various hobbies that didn’t require leaving the apartment instead of going out and meeting people.

That reason even had a name, but it wasn’t one that Derek wanted to think about—especially not so soon after losing his sister.

But then a yelp and a comment from the man—teenager probably from his tone and phrasing—caused him to stop.

“—needle in a haystack! If inhalers weren’t so freaking expensive . . . ” The ramble continued on, but Derek wasn’t focused on the words any longer. Instead he and headed to intercept the speaker.

It was a teenager, long limbed and trim wearing a printed shirt and jeans with a suit jacket over top. His brown hair was buzzed close to his head and Derek startled him when he spoke.

“What are you doing here? This is private—” his insides froze as the teenager finally looked up after stumbling over nothing and their eyes met. “Property.”

Light brown eyes almost the color of gold met his green tinted hazel and something snapped into place within him. His mind was clear, other than the rush of lust that everyone knew accompanied mating. It was completely different then the last time . . . the time that hadn’t actually happened.

Where years ago his wolf and his mind had reacted like they were drugged (and they had been), now everything was sharp and clear. The turmoil that had put his wolf at the surface had _calmed_ in an instant and the shift had settled beneath his skin no longer howling to be let out.

Mating wasn’t about danger or dominance. A werewolf had no need of teeth or claws within the fever unless threatened. Derek blinked and a small rush of hair entered his lungs. He hadn’t moved, but the teenager had.

The kid was practically vibrating with energy in front of him, fingers jerking slightly as he reached out to Derek. Cool fingers touched his and his eyes dropped to watch as their fingers tangled together.

“Stiles.” The teen breathed out. “I’m Stiles and you’re . . .” Derek’s attention shifted back up to _Stiles_ ’ face. Stiles blinked and winced slightly. “Are you Derek Hale?” The question was tentative and he was surprised that the other man recognized him.

Derek’s free hand reached up to tentatively settle against Stiles’ cheek, fingers gently smoothing over several flat moles on his _mate’s_ cheek. He took a shaky breath and nodded, “Yes.”

Stiles stared at him for a moment longer, lips pursing and fingers tightening over Derek’s. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

The words caught Derek off guard, but kiss itself did not. Their fingers untangled, but their hands found other places to be as their lips met.

Yes, in retrospect finding your mate only hours after finding half your dead sisters body was awkward and horrible and something that one might avoid talking about (as much as anyone could get away with avoiding sharing their mating story and not being rude). But it was still perfect and amazing and more _right_ than Derek could have ever hoped for.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wanted it to be longer. I decided to stop this part here and put the rest in another part as I've decide to include a bit from the Sheriff's perspective (a mini interlude-ish scene), because considering the situation I think his POV is important. There's also a scene I didn't want to include in the same section as this part due to not wanting to detract from Stiles' and Derek's mating.
> 
> I waited longer to post this due to needing to settle from 3x11 and 3x12. And I had to rework what I was going to do with Scott's Dad as I want it to be semi canon. Plus I rewrote a section of this like five times before I decided I liked it.
> 
> It's been a while since I wrote anything sexual so I hope people like it.

Mating under the age of eighteen wasn’t impossible, it was only rather improbable. It occasionally happened between people who had known each other their whole lives, but more often than not mating tended to happen between individuals who had never met before. 

There were dozens of theories, but no facts relating to the subject of why most people didn’t mate until they were off to college, apprenticeships, or otherwise working. They were all just theories, just like all the other information about how mating occurs and _why_ that Stile’s had read. He’d read a lot too . . . spent almost seventy two hours straight, nearly overdosed on Adderall, researching the subject that summer.

He’d wanted to be prepared, even if realistically he knew that the likelihood he would meet his mate before he graduated high school was less than a quarter percent. None of his studying, reading and watching accounts of mating—even after having heard hundreds of mating stories—could have prepared him for the actuality.

In no corner of his mind had Stiles ever considered the possibility of mating with an _older_ man (or woman). Sure, the idea of mating with another guy had crossed his mind, especially after everything that went down in the news a few years back, but no the fact that he’d be mated to a guy that was at least five years older than him before he even turned eighteen. Not that Stiles was complaining—he so _wasn’t_.

His fingers clenched against Derek’s shirt as he tentatively slid his tongue into _his mate’s_ mouth. Not complaining _at all_. Flexing his fingers to release the fabric, Stile’s pushed both his hands under the warm, soft leather of Derek’s jacket, moving them up towards Derek’s shoulders, encouraging his mate to move back slightly so he could slip the jacket off.

While Derek went with the movement causing their mouths to part, he did release a soft growl as he stepped back before he moved back in to recapture Stile’s lips. Seconds later his own jacket found its way to the ground and Stile’s found himself backed up against the rough bark of a pine tree.

He couldn’t find it in him to care about the rough scrape he could feel through the thin his shirt, as one of Derek’s legs slipped between his and pressed up against his cock. Stiles groaned before slipping one hand around Derek’s neck and the other down to reel Derek’s body in so that he could feel the hard press of his mate’s erection against his hip. Adjusting his hand, he pressed against Derek’s lower back, fitting their bodies even tighter together, and received a moan in response.

This was better than any story that Stiles had ever heard. Not only could he feel the pleasure being built up by their rutting against each other and the caresses of hands and lips—Stiles gasped as Derek nipped at his lip lightly and then trailed lips and teeth lightly over his jawline towards the point where his jaw met his neck—but he could already feel that mystical bond between mates forming.

As pleasure sparked behind his eyes he could practically _see_ the brilliant lines of light spiraling out from the center of who they were, reaching and intertwining at the tips. Letting his hand wander from Derek’s hip, he found one of Derek’s hands and slotted his own fingers between his mates. As their fingers slid together, he knew so were _they_ , that which made them who they were—their souls, if you wanted to go with the popular romance novel descriptor, being bound together.

He pulled back slightly as lights sparked behind his eyes, knowing that everything that was building up between them was coming to a temporary climax—solidifying itself for the moment before they’d need to reinforce the bond and learn its inner workings. 

His eyes were open and he met Derek’s as that moment came, pleasure—both of theirs—dancing between them across a bond that was already much stronger than any description that Stiles had ever found before. Everyone had always told him that the bond took time to fortify, to build up from a loose twist to a tightly woven chain.

In that instant Stiles knew that this moment was going to change his life forever. It wasn’t just due to the shining blue color that his mate’s eyes had turned, nor was it even due just to the fact that they were _mates_. It was an instinct, a belief.

Stiles just _knew_.

 

 

Derek breathed deeply, practically panting as he came down from the high produced by the feel of their mutual orgasm. He’d tucked his head into the crook of Stiles’ neck moments after they came, and as the pleasure filled haze faded away he was starting to become aware of the distinct discomfort of having come in his pants.

“ _Oh my God_ ,” Stiles breathed lightly into his ear, fingers tightening both in the back of Derek’s shirt and around Derek’s right hand.

A small smile quirked Derek’s lips as they pressed against the smooth, warm skin of his mate’s neck. He could feel his bond with Stiles, already stronger than the frayed edges of his remaining pack bonds. It was stronger than any bond he could ever remember having. He nipped lightly at the skin causing Stiles to shiver.

“What are you?” Stiles asked, voice slightly husky. “A vampire?”

Derek pulled away, trying to step back but his mate’s fingers just tightened to keep him as close as possible.

“No,” he shook his head, eyes drifting shut and jaw clenching a little. A rush of emotion flooded his mind and he blinked his eyes open, taking in his mate’s features. There was no hate, no distrust, nothing except curiosity, love, and something Derek could only describe as comfort. He wasn’t asking out of shock or worry; Stiles was only asking because he wanted to _know him_. “I—Werewolf.”

“Werewolf?” Stiles blinked and Derek could practically see the gears moving in his mind. “Really? I wasn’t serious . . .cool. I have so many, many questions. But they can wait. They can wait, right? You aren’t going to bite me and make me go grr—” Stiles used the hand that wasn’t grasping Derek’s to shape into claws as he bared his teeth, “—just because I’m you’re mate and we’re going to have tons and tons of sex, are you? Because I got to tell you that sort of things requires thought and consideration. Even if I’d probably let you. Mate and all. But—”

Cutting his ramble off with a kiss, Derek leaned into Stiles for a moment before pulling back just enough to rest their foreheads together. “No. Doesn’t work that way.”

“Okay.”

They stared at each other for a moment, eyes so close it was hard to focus on more than one at a time, as the sun began to set, before the silence was broken by the sound of a guitar solo rocking out from the forest floor nearby. 

It took a moment for it to register what the sound was. Apparently Stiles had dropped his phone along with his jacket. Derek stepped back further to allow Stiles room to retrieve it his fingers relaxing their grip, but Stiles only gripped his hand tighter as he retrieved the phone and stared at the caller ID.

Derek watched as his mate wet his lips nervously and answered the call.

“Hey Dad,” Stiles’ fingers tightened around Derek’s, chin dipping as he slid a sideways glance towards his mate.

_“You better have a good reason for disobeying me or you will be won’t be seeing the night sky from anywhere but your bedroom window until you graduate.”_

“Well, um.” Stiles flailed verbally for some response. His mind, for once, was blank. He had certainly disobeyed his Dad and would deserve any punishment that would be doled out . . . but that could wait or maybe, if he was lucky, even be forgotten. “I mated?” 

There were a few beats of shocked silence before Stiles’ Dad responded, an entirely different set of emotions coloring his tone. _“Where are you?”_

 

 

The walk to where he had left the jeep was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Stiles got the idea that Derek wasn’t very talkative on a normal day and with the bond between them he found that he didn’t really mind the silence. His mind was a whirl of thoughts anyway, of what would happen next that he found he didn’t need to vocalize them yet. He needed to sort them out first.

He was also relishing the feel of his mate’s skin against his, even if it was just their fingers tangled together. Soon they’d be separated as the legal aspects of dealing with a mated pair where at least one individual was under the age of eighteen would be worked out. One of them—and considering their situation probably Derek—would end up having to uproot most of their life to adapt to the situation. Stiles wasn’t looking forward to being separated from Derek for even the short time he knew they had to be in order for the initial bond to be verified and for the _adults_ to sort out all the legal issues.

He could feel Derek tensing beside him, the bond vibrating with nervous energy and a half dozen other emotions. Stopping about twenty feet or so before the tree line, both his jeep and a patrol car visible through the brush in the dim light, Stiles pulled Derek into an embrace.

The first few moments Derek was all hard edges and tensed muscle, but after that he relaxed, breath easing out with a sigh and his forehead dropped down against the curve where Stiles’ shoulder met his neck.

They stood there for a few moments, Stiles’ running a hand up the line of Derek’s spine and back down, knowing that his mate needed the comfort even if he wasn’t completely sure of the reasons why.

He could guess, though. Stiles was rather good at figuring things out when he focused on it. Right now, even with the jumble of thoughts swirling through his mind it was pretty focused on Derek.

“We should probably go before your Dad starts looking for us,” Derek’s voice rumbled next to his ear, soft and breathy before he stepped away.

Biting his lip Stiles nodded, glancing towards the road. “Pretty sure we’ve already been spotted, but yeah, probably a good idea.”

Derek squeezed his hand and they continued the short distance to where Stiles’ father and another officer were standing between his jeep and the police car.

His Dad turned to them then, eyes moving over Stiles to Derek and then back. It said something that he managed a small smile for them, considering the situation. 

Queue awkward meet the parents moment. 

And, If it wasn’t awkward enough that his father _knew_ that they’d had to have gotten each other off in the middle of the forest before meeting up with him . . . there was evidence still drying in Stiles’ underwear to prove it.

Stiles really hoped they’d be able to look back at their mating story and tell it for the humor aspect sooner, rather than later. Or maybe they’d just skip the ‘sooner’ portion of telling their story and just wait until much, much later to tell it.

Only that would be rude. _Damn_ , they’d be telling this story a dozen or more times before morning. 

This was simultaneously the most awkward and most awesome day of Stiles entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should be more coming soon as I got over a minor hurdle that was blocking me in this part. I need to go back and fix a few things referencing time of day I noticed. I thought I should clarify, just in case. I'll fix it soon along with a few typos.
> 
> Laura's death @ Night - Derek finds Jonathon the next morning - Derek takes an overnight flight to CA - Rents a car that morning when he gets there and drives to BH Sheriffs office - Finds the body that day - Runs into Stiles that evening.
> 
> Laura's death - Half her body found the next day - Stiles and Scott go into the woods @ night - School where Scott mates with Allison - Stiles meets Derek that evening


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for why this chapter is a couple weeks late. 
> 
> This chapter is from the Sheriff's POV. I decided to go with the seemingly popular name of John for the Sheriff.
> 
> Again this is no where near as long as I want it to be, but I will have the next part up Thursday or Friday. Or sooner if I feel like attempting to write on my tablet in the car on Wednesday to finish the scene I need to.

While John knew his son wasn't that good at actually obeying a direct order—over the years he'd learned to be subtler and use his sons ADHD to distract him, but that advantage was quickly becoming a disadvantage. As such, even after a long lecture and a set of annoying punishments being put in place for his son being in the middle of the forest looking for a dead body, he wasn't that surprised when his wife called to let him know that Stiles hadn't made it home within the time limit she'd given him. He was even less surprised to find Stiles' jeep parked in pretty much the exact same place it'd been less than twenty four hours ago.

Sighing, he called his wayward child, thanking God for the existence of cell phones. Even without the GPS it made keeping track of teenagers oh so much easier. 

_"Uh, Hey Dad,"_ Stiles’ voice greeted him. He could hear the sheepish look on his sons face alongside the rough guilty quality.

“You better have a good reason for disobeying me or you will be won’t be seeing the night sky from anywhere but your bedroom window until you graduate," John bit back his frustration, or tried to, as he spoke. The scolding quality, however, was very much present.

"Well, um . . ." There was a distinct pause before his son finally continued, "I mated?"

His insides froze. Stiles was only sixteen, nearing seventeen in a few months, but still _sixteen_. Plus he was in the middle of nowhere, or at least his jeep was. There weren't a lot of people out here and the moment, and almost none of them were unmated . . .

"Where are you?" John asked, voice coming out rough, as he scrubbed a hand through his hair.

There was one person out in the forest, at least, that John knew wasn't mated. At the very least he could be thankful that the young man wasn't off the hook of being a possible murderer.

_"Uh,"_ Stiles cleared his throat, _"About a fifteen minute walk from where I parked the jeep? Maybe?"_

Sighing, John let his eyes shut before responding, "You have that long to get here. Don't dawdle."

_"Understood,"_ Stiles was quiet for a moment, _"Dad . . ."_

"I know. Get your ass back to the jeep."

 

 

Seeing his son exit the tree line, almost stumbling over a tree root, hand tightly clasped around the hand of Derek Hale—a twenty two year old young man with a life so chocked full of tragedy and death—John couldn’t help but feel his heart stutter. It wasn’t like he hadn’t expected to see them together, hand in hand, after the phone call. If anything he’d half hoped, half dreaded it.

Derek at the very least deserved some happiness, but there was a small part of John that wondered why it had to be his _sixteen year old son_ that was destined to bring him that. As they came forward, John took in the site of them. Even if the simple knowledge of the mating drive weren’t enough, it was obvious from the sight of them what they’d been up to.

His son was practically beaming, sharp honey colored eyes practically daring John to disapprove. Derek, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be able to meet his eyes. In the dim light John could swear the man’s ears were tinged red.

Managing a small smile, he stood from where he leaned against the patrol car and moved towards them. For a short time they could ignore the events of the past day, the body in the woods. If nothing else this was a moment in time that they needed to focus on the happier aspects, and mating was nothing if not a joyous event.

No matter what tragedy may have brought Derek here to meet his son.

“Congratulations, Stiles,” he smiled a bit wider, focusing his attention on the happier side of things. “Derek,” John settled a hand on both their shoulders, squeezing gently. Derek managed to look up at him. “We should head home.” The younger man blinked at him, surprise etching his features. There was a slight quiver beneath his hand, but John just squeezed Derek’s shoulder gently again, clapped it lightly and stepped back.

“Where’d you leave your car?” John asked, glancing over at Deputy Graeme. She was smiling at them. “Tara will have one of the officers pick it up and bring it to the house.”

There was a moment where it looked like Derek didn’t quite know what to say, his gaze wandering to meet Stiles’, before he wet his lips and spoke. “It’s up at the house. I . . . I have a couple bags in the trunk.”

“The house?” John started before he could stop himself. The Hale house, if you could call it that. It was only half standing and a burnt out shell of its former glory.

He could still remember what it looked like before the blaze that claimed eight lives and ruined five others. It had been a beautiful house, a mini mansion. The loss of life had destroyed the Hale family. Seeing the decaying building must have been almost as bad as finding his sisters body. Derek didn’t need to go through that again, not at the moment.

Derek only nodded and Tara stepped forward, hand out. 

“I’ll take good care of your ride, it’s a Camaro right?” She asked, catching his attention.

“Yeah,” Derek dug out his keys with his free hand and tossed them over after a minute hesitation. “It’s a rental—”

“I’ll be careful with it.”

“Dude, you can trust Tara,” Stiles grinned at Derek and then at her. “She’s got the best driving stats of the whole precinct. She can turn on a _dime_. No lie.”

And there was another reminder of the fact that John needed to get a better security system set up. His teenage son knew too much information about everyone and everything in the precinct. 

“I’ll get Tony to pick me up and we’ll drop the car off within the hour,” Tara reached for her radio. “You guys should probably hurry to the Mating clinic to get things sorted,” her grin widened and she winked at Stiles, “have fun boys!”

The look on Derek’s face at her comment starkly contrasted Stiles’ grin and had John fighting to hide a grin of his own. He cleared his throat. “Stiles, I assume you know the way…?”

“I do, not that I’ve spent a lot of time fantasizing about the place, but it’s in a rather central location and near the hosp—”

“Right, so it should take you less than fifteen minutes to drive there.”

“a—ital where Scott’s Mom works and _oh my God_ Scott is going to freak out when he finds out we both mated on the same day. To other people, although that’s kind of obvious—”

Turning, John headed to climb into his patrol car. “Derek, make sure Stiles’ takes his dose of Adderall before you come into the clinic. There should be some in the glove box of the jeep.”

“—and, hey! I took some already. I think.” Stiles stopped talking and frowned. “Maybe.”

“Will do.”

 

 

The route to the clinic took him right past their neighborhood and with only a moment’s hesitation John turned onto a side road that would take him home. If he timed it right, the boys would only beat him to the clinic by five or ten minutes. He’d already called ahead for an mediator to be waiting for their arrival anyway.

Pulling into the drive, he stopped next to the family car and put it in park. A wave of sleepy surprise and happiness, with a hint of worry and question slipped across the bond he shared with Claudia. For all the trouble that she’d had since her diagnosis and the treatment that saved her life, but almost destroyed it in other ways, the one thing that hadn’t been affected was their bond.

She was standing at the top of the stairs when he entered the door, a hand grasping the railing tightly as she smiled blearily down at him. When they first met, years ago, she’d been so similar to Stiles in personality and energy level. Now, more often than not, she spent her days sleeping or attempting to work on one of a half dozen books she’d started when Stiles’ was an infant.

“John?” She furrowed her eyebrow, stepping down a few steps. “What’s going on? Did something happen with Stiles?”

He nodded and stopped at the bottom of the stairs, waiting until she reached him to speak. “Our son met someone today,” he told her, slipping his arms around her and pulling her to him. John closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers lightly, one hand coming up to thread through the messy curls of her dark hair.

“Oh?” Claudia murmured, pulling back to examine his face, causing him to slit his eyes open. Her golden eyes narrowed. “You mean he _met_ someone.” A light danced in her eyes as a smile pulled at her lips. “And who might this young man be?”

That she had automatically assumed Stiles’ mate would be male didn’t even faze John. Claudia had always known things, even subconsciously, that others hadn’t. It was a constant that had only faded slightly after the surgery.

“Not quite so young,” John sighed. “He’s twenty-two and you might remember him . . . Derek Hale.”

She frowned and tilted her head, “Derek _Hale_.” Her eyes found some point above his shoulder and stared, slightly unfocused, as she tried to catch a memory attached to the name. “Hale. That is a familiar name,” she bit her lip and he ran a hand soothingly over her shoulder.

“Talia’s son,” he murmured. “Her third child, you babysat him and her eldest daughter a few times. Before Stiles was born.”

Claudia focused back on him and _smiled_ ; her face lit up as she met his eyes. “Are you going to meet them at the clinic?” she asked, her hands sliding over her shirt and pajama pants. “I don’t think I’m presentable for this. Not today. I’ll help plan the Mating Ceremony. Tomorrow will be a _good_ day." She paused and reached up, framing his face with her palms. "Derek will be a good addition to the family . . . he’ll strengthen our bonds.”

Leaning in, John captured her lips in a short kiss and then pressed another to her forehead. Her assurance was all that he had needed and more. “I love you.”

“Kocham Cię. Go take care of our son.”

The jeep was already at the clinic when he got there, but John was only five minutes later than he thought he would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A website told me that: Kocham Cię. means I love you in Polish. If it's wrong PLEASE correct me. I don't speak Polish. 
> 
> I may be a couple weeks late on my estimate for my SGA fic's last chapter simply because work asked me to change my schedule to babysit ~20+ new hires for three weeks (this starts on Thursday this week). I'm only 75% through what I need to finish for it. Life, what can I say? It's still farther than I was at the beginning of this month though.

**Author's Note:**

> More teen wolf characters/pairings may be added as I go . . . remember they only just reached the ages when they'll start to be able to mate for most of them. Also, yes, Mama Stilinski will be alive because I like the Sheriff too much.


End file.
